


Too Much, Not Enough

by Whimsy_Spirit



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Remus is hurting and I’m projecting, Small Mention of Religion, tw:Remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:54:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29053938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whimsy_Spirit/pseuds/Whimsy_Spirit
Summary: “Since the earliest he can remember, Remus has been a loud and aggressive person. He has a vested interest in gore, enjoys people’s reactions when he says something wild, and doesn’t like being shut up.“What happens when he gets shut up!
Relationships: None
Kudos: 11





	Too Much, Not Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes, I am projecting! Why yes, I did have a very similar conversation to the one they have in this, how did you guess lol?

Since the earliest he can remember, Remus has been a loud and aggressive person. He has a vested interest in gore, enjoys people’s reactions when he says something wild, and doesn’t like being shut up. Then again, who does?   
Still, he wasn’t always alright with it. When he was younger and still close with Roman, they would play make believe. Usually it would start off fine, Remus happy to play the villain and Roman excited to be a hero. But Remus always took it too far. Maybe it was describing how he tortured the damsel in distress, maybe it was coming up with a horrific monster to be his henchman, or maybe it was just getting too loud. Somehow, he always found a way to annoy Roman and scare him off.   
It used to hurt so much. It felt like he had no control over his mouth, like his worst thoughts forced their way out. People would stare or gasp and he would be reeling from whatever he had let escape his mind. There was a lot of guilt involved too, whenever someone would sit him down and tell him to be more sensitive or think through his words.   
Eventually though, he became numb to it.   
It was almost impossible for him to control his mouth, so why try? People wanted to judge him, go ahead. Seeing their gaping mouths was funny anyway. Sure, he was left with few companions who could stand his steady stream of stereotypical senselessness, but it was better to have a few good friends anyway.   
Today was different.   
He was talking with the others, and they seemed fine, if a little annoyed. Then he made a small joke about the devil and Logan became defensive. Religion was a touchy subject. The one thing they kept away from Remus, as it was so sacred to them- almost protected them from him. When the dark side made said joke, Logan somehow got more serious and Patton quieted down. Virgil was already bored and didn’t even announce that he was leaving, just sunk away. Roman rolled his eyes and walked off. But Logan’s eyes stayed trained on Remus.   
“Either you said that because you have a serious question I need to address, because you like the attention you get from saying things like that- which needs to be addressed, or because you are being wrongly influenced, which would need to be addressed,” he said sternly.   
Remus hardly knew how to react. He wasn’t used to his comments being taken so seriously. He was, however, used to be rebuked in this manner. So he gave his normal response.   
“It was just a joke, nerd. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”  
Logan’s face hardened at that. Before he could respond though, Remus spoke again.  
“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning to walk away, “it isn’t my fault you have no sense of humor.” At that, he briskly walked to his room, locking the door the moment he got inside. 

He promptly fell to his knees, hands flat on the floor. Doubts and insecurities filled his mind, thoughts he hadn’t faced since his youth. It was like he was thrown back into his younger self’s mind, insecure and hurting, afraid of messing up again.   
Afraid of talking again.   
Afraid of pissing everyone off again.   
He stood up and summoned a punching bag and some gloves, both plain and gray. They were devoid of his usual.. artistic flourishes.   
He angrily started at the punching bag before slamming his fist into it with all his might. The back of his mind reminded him of how sloppy his form was, how everyone would be so disappointed. Remus tried to pretend like he didn’t care, but subconsciously tried to straighten his shoulders, turn his fists more, keep his feet shoulder width apart.   
Over and over he hit the bag, the only sounds in the room were his grunting and the dull thud of each hit. Only a dozen or so punches in, he noticed his vision getting blurry. Wiping his face with his gloved hand, he realized he was crying.   
He wasn’t some toxic douche. He knows there’s nothing wrong with crying. What bothered him was, well, how bothered he was. He should be used to those responses by now, but yet again he was left wondering why he couldn’t just keep his mouth shut.   
Logan didn’t even seem that angry, just a bit disappointed. But Remus’ mind was so used to reactions of anger that he assumed Logan was secretly angry too, just not showing it. He wondered if Logan wanted to hurt him. Remus couldn’t blame him, if he did. He was well aware of how annoying he could be. 

These self destructive thoughts got too overwhelming, and Remus fell to the ground again. He took off the gloves and scrubbed his face, ignoring the way his eyeshadow and liner rubbed off on his hands. He stayed there on the floor for a while, just letting himself cry. His own mind continued to berate him the entire time. 

Eventually he got up and moved to his bed. It was a mess, blankets and pillows thrown wherever was comfortable, a sketchbook and some pens resting precariously on the edge of the bed. He crawled under some blankets, waving his hand to turn off the lights. He didn’t care much wether it was a reasonable time to sleep, he just wanted his thoughts to disappear for a bit.   
Still, he only laid there. Though his eyes were closed, his mind was far too active, overthinking and yelling at him. He spent an hour just laying there, suffering, before he finally fell asleep. 

He didn’t wake up until noon the next day, not that anyone aside from him noticed. His eyes were dull and empty, and he felt completely drained of all emotion. Still, that was better than the excess of emotion he felt previously. He decided to take the day off from his very important duties of terrorizing the others and trying to get Thomas to stick his hand in the toaster. Instead he spent his time skimming through books and not remembering a thing he read, eating bread, and blankly staring at the mirror. The only thing of importance in his day was when Janus knocked on his door, asking if he was alive in there. The snake-faced had been known to isolate too, this was not an uncommon occurrence. So when Remus gave his single word confirmation, Janus simply said “Find me if you need anything,” and left. This stage of emotional turmoil was not enjoyable, but when he finally thought it was a normal enough time to go back to bed, he fell asleep quickly. He knew the next day he would be right back to normal.


End file.
